


Till the End of the Line

by cotangent_brothers



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Angst, Endverse!Cas, Endverse!Dean - Freeform, Hippie Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, I AM A MESS, I like pain, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 08:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6795799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cotangent_brothers/pseuds/cotangent_brothers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>~ Endverse fic, plenty of feelings: buy one feeling, get one half off ~ </p><p>Dean did what he had to do, and he should drown his sorrows in a night with Risa. Instead, he ends up in Cas' cabin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Till the End of the Line

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silencethroughwords](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silencethroughwords/gifts).



There was no soap.

His hands were sticky with blood, dirt was matted under his nails, his skin smelled like metal and sweat, and there was no goddamn soap.

Dean gripped the rim of the wash basin and dropped his head, squeezing his eyes shut. The bath cabin stank of bleach and mildew, and everyone had bigger worries than cleaning the place. The mirror was spotted with fungus – summer in the middle of a forest meant everything was covered in mold – and as he raised his head to meet his reflection, he noticed flecks of red on his face. More blood.

Harvey’s blood.

He gritted his teeth and violently twisted the knob of the faucet, thrusting his hands once again into the stream of water and scrubbing them with renewed vigor.

He’d liked Harvey. The guy had been a real trooper, always volunteering for missions and carrying more than his own weight. He’d saved Dean’s ass more than once.

And then he’d started showing signs. Tremors in his hands. Shifting eyes and quickened breathing. It would only have been a matter of time.

They’d lost a good man today – another one. And Dean didn’t know how much longer he could keep this up. He felt like an exposed nerve, an elastic band stretched to the breaking point. One of these days, he was gonna snap, just keel over and die from hypertension. He only hoped he could take out that supernatural piece of shit wearing his brother first.

When Dean figured he’d washed off as much grime and blood as he possibly could, he turned the faucet off and stalked out of the bathroom. Night had fallen over the camp, turning everything to silhouette and shadow, but his eyes were well-accustomed to the dark, and he made his way across the field easily.  

Risa’s cabin was the only one still dimly lit. She was waiting up for him, and wasting good batteries while doing so. Dean paused by her cabin, briefly considering going in, but no. He was just too on edge tonight, and with her, he always ended up giving more than he got.

And right then, he was empty.

He trudged on, past her cabin, past his own, until he reached the cabin that smelled vaguely of patchouli – seriously, where was that even coming from? – and he slipped inside.

The interior was small, and it was made even smaller by the clothes and books and miscellaneous “spiritual” crap scattered around. And there, sleeping on the cot and nearly hidden beneath a sheet, was Cas.

It was hot, almost ninety degrees, but Cas never slept without some sort of cover. It was a sign of vulnerability, and with anyone else, Dean would have scoffed and told them to grow some balls. But this was Cas, and Dean would peel off his own skin for him if it meant keeping the ex-angel warm and safe.

He silently tugged off his boots and ghosted over to Cas, settling beside him on the cot. The once-angel automatically snaked his arm over Dean’s chest, partially covering him with the sheet in the process, and the hunter sighed.

“You’re early,” Cas mumbled with his eyes still closed.

“Go back to sleep.”   

His mouth curled up. “What? Did Risa find out you’ve been sleeping in Jane’s cabin, too?”

Dean and Cas slept in many people’s cabins, but somehow they always ended up back here at the end of it all, together.

“Nah,” he said, and Cas opened his eyes at the gruffness in Dean’s voice, searching his face.

“You’re angry,” the ex-angel observed.

“That’s my secret, Cap. I’m always angry.” The joke fell flat from the hardness in his tone, but Cas half-smiled anyway. Somewhere between Lucifer rising and Sam saying yes, Dean had showed Cas a few Marvel movies, which he’d enjoyed.

“No,” he squinted. “I mean…this is different. You’re in pain.” His hand slid down Dean’s torso until it found his, and their fingers intertwined. “What’s wrong?”

The hunter deflated. “I had to bury Harvey today. One of the Croats infected him, and I…he just…” 

“I know.” Cas moved closer to rest his head in the crook of Dean’s neck, and Dean closed his eyes, focusing on the softness of Cas’ hair, the warmth of his body beside him.

“I can’t keep doing this,” he said raggedly. “Cas, if I have to plug one more of our own, I’m gonna lose it.” His voice was rising with slight hysteria. “I swear, I’m not—!”

“Shh,” Cas murmured, and Dean broke off, breathing heavily. The faded angel rubbed soothing circles into his palm and pressed his lips to the pulse point on Dean’s neck, no doubt feeling how rapidly his heart was pounding. “One day at a time, fearless leader.”

“Cas.” His voice was thick with exhaustion and slowly waning adrenaline. “You gotta promise me something.”

“Anything. Mostly.”

“Just tell me you won’t leave.” They both knew that what Dean really meant was for Cas not to leave _him_.

“Well,” Cas’ hand tightened around his. “I’m with you till the end of the line.”  

 

           


End file.
